Australian.Geographic_2014_01-02

84 Australian Geographic

and head back to shore or to continue with my fellow

paddlers and avoid the humiliation of looking like

a mountain goat trying to stay upright on a pair of

water skis during a heavy swell.

The river is moving swiftly now. Matt senses the

need to calm my jangled nerves. “I wouldn’t worry

so much,” he says. “The salties that we get down here

are mainly smaller males, under 3m, that make the

300km trip from the coast to fatten up before heading

back to breed and compete with the larger males.”

He tells me that the Parks and Wildlife Commission

NT trap a few larger rogue salties every dry season

but this year has been quiet. “You’re viewed more as

a large 15ft [4.6m] object that’s too big to compete

with than as food in a kayak,” he reassures me.

Feeling a little less like a kangaroo in headlights,

I paddle into the fi rst set of rapids we’ll cross. The

Katherine River is intersected by rock bars and the

elevation drops by up to 2m between each bar, causing

a very manageable, yet exciting, whitewater experi-

ence. I realise that the scratches on the sides of our

kayaks aren’t claw marks after all but evidence that

newbies, such as myself, have been unable to zigzag

around the exposed rocks and submerged eucalypts

without damaging the kayak. The twisted trunks play

an important role in supporting the river’s large and

varied aquatic ecosystem; 38 species of fi sh are found

in the Katherine. The fi sh include barramundi, sooty

grunters, and freshwater long toms, which have long

arrow-shaped bodies and jaws like miniature bill fi sh.

As we paddle along, we see archerfi sh knocking

prey insects into the river from overhanging plants by

exposing their lips just above the surface and spitting

a jet of water. Yellow-faced and northern snake-

necked turtles are also common in these stretches.

B

Y OUR SECOND DAY on the river, my haze has

lifted; I am no longer numb with fear and my

balance in the cigar-shaped kayak has improved.

It’s the dry season. The days are long and hot and blue

skied. A fl ock of exuberant red-tailed black cockatoos

fl ies overhead, screeching and fl apping.

Matt is quick to list the impressive diversity of

birds that live along the river. “You have your apex

birds like the white-bellied sea eagle and whis-

tling and black kites – they’ve been known to pick

up smouldering wood from the edge of a bushfi re

and drop it into a separate part of the bush to start

another fi re and fl ush out prey,” he says. He names

blue-faced honeyeaters and rainbow bee-eaters as

they fl it into view. We see a great-billed heron, an

elusive native wading bird, as well as pied cormorants,

royal spoonbills and raja shelducks.

Early each morning, the landscape is transformed

as an eerie mist cloaks the river. Over the mist,

sunlight streams through the silver-leaved and weep-

ing paperbarks. Freshwater mangroves and palm-like

pandanus crowd the bank. One narrow, fast-moving

stretch of the Katherine, dubbed “pandanus alley”,

is covered by a canopy of leaves stitched together by

the webs of Saint Andrew’s Cross spiders.

As the river cuts its way through the landscape and

I am carried further from mobile-phone reception,

I begin to feel at home. I’m about to relax and pull

out a fi shing rod when Matt points out a freshwater

crocodile sunning itself on the sandy bank to my left.

Freshies are far smaller than their saltwater cousins;

they can grow up to about 3m but more commonly

only reach about 2m. They are not as territorial as

salties – which can grow to 7m – and are less aggres-

sive. They eat small prey, such as fi sh and cherabin

(freshwater prawns). It’s my fi rst up-close encounter

with a crocodile; all the other freshies sighted have

darted from the bank into the river’s depths before

we could get within cooee of them.

After three days, as we pull into the pick-up point,

about 50km down river, Collin greets us with cold

drinks and chocolate. I wonder whether I should

paddle in with the others or make a mad dash and

continue on. Like the Katherine River itself, which

transforms as it meanders through the landscape, I

have undergone a great change. Climbing out onto

the bank I know I have been bewitched by the natural

delights of this remote pocket of the Top End and

suspect I’ll be back to sample them again – hopefully

in the not too distant future. AG

By our second day on the river my haze has lifted;

I am no longer numb with fear.

FIND more images of the Katherine online at: http://www.

australiangeographic.com.au/journal/issue118.htm

AUSTRALIAN GEOGRAPHIC thanks Gecko Canoeing

and Trekking and Tourism NT for their help with this story.